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Listen "080 :: Hobson's Choice :: A Slow Drag with "Pretty Words""
Episode Synopsis
Today's slow drag is with "Pretty Words," from "Trust," released in 1981. The songwriting is credited to Elvis Costello. Show Notes: Appreciation written, produced, and narrated by Remedy Robinson, MA/MFA Twitter: https://twitter.com/slowdragremedy Email: [email protected] Podcast music by https://www.fesliyanstudios.com Rate this Podcast: https://ratethispodcast.com/slowdrag References: Elvis Costello Wiki Resource, "Pretty Words": http://www.elviscostello.info/wiki/index.php/Pretty_Words "Pretty Words": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5jV7LmNeVk "Hobson's Choice": https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/hobsons-choice.html Purchase "The Most Terrible Time in My Life…Ends Thursday" https://www.amazon.com/Most-Terrible-Time-Life-Thursday-ebook/dp/B07XLXS5PL/ref=sr_1_1?crid=Y4SGCT62WPEK&dchild=1&keywords=the+most+terrible+time+in+my+life+ends+thursday&qid=1608873405&sprefix=The+Most+Terrible+Time+in+%2Caps%2C195&sr=8-1 "Pretty Words" Lyrics: I ask you nicely Get my face slapped under wraps What's going on precisely Is there something wrong perhaps? Surprise, surprise (surprise, surprise) It's more like a booby trap than a booby prize Civil disobedience from a soldier with a dirty rifle You're loosening all the screws that hold the hinges of my life Fat cats and army brats Hep cats and dog tags pawing over girly mags Pretty words don't mean much anymore I don't mean to be mean much anymore All I see are snapshots, big shots, tender spots Mug shots, machine slots Till you don't know what's what You don't know what you got Curious women running after curious men Curiosity didn't kill the cat It was a poisoned pen But there's not much choice (it's Hobson's choice) Between a cruel mouth and a jealous voice Got back to London Picked a paper from the mat No words of consolation Just cartoons and chitter chatter Well, well, fancy that Millions murdered for a kiss me quick hat No backbone, blood and guts Better keep your big mouth shut Pretty words don't mean much anymore I don't mean to be mean much anymore All I see are snapshots, big shots, tender spots Machine slots, mug shots Till you don't know what's what You don't know what you got
In God we trust